


The Stubborn Shield

by katerleegrand



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Even shields get sick okay, Fluff, Gen, Gladio gets sick, He's not having a good time, Illnesses, Mention of blood, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Really minor flirting, Sickness, Some Cursing, Whump, either one, like if you squint - Freeform, mention of vomiting, or could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katerleegrand/pseuds/katerleegrand
Summary: Day 2 of FFXV Brotherly Love Week: "You look pale."Gladio unfortunately comes down with an illness, but hides it from the others. Everything comes to light during a hunt gone wrong.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20
Collections: FFXV Brotherly Love Week





	The Stubborn Shield

The second Gladio opens his eyes, he feels it: pain. More pain than he has felt before. His head was pounding, stomach churning, muscles aching. His body felt as though it had been trampled by a behemoth. These last few days in Lestallum had been so relaxing, a truly well-earned vacation for the four of them. Why this now, of all the times for his body to pull this stunt?

‘ _Damnit, what the hell is wrong with me?_ ’

Gladio clenches his eyes shut as another wave of pain ripples through his body.

‘ _I can’t afford to be sick, especially when we have a hunt today._ ’

His body seems to disagree, sending a wave of nausea rushing through him. ‘ _Shit!_ ’ Ignoring every other ache, he rushes to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before what little contents his stomach come up. His body strains, tears run down his face, until he collapses in a heap on the floor.

‘ _Gods damnit, what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe food poisoning? Yeah, that’s probably it, just something I ate..._ ’

He trembles as he stands and flushes the toilet. Cringing at the taste of bile, Gladio stumbles over to the sink and quickly rinses his mouth, before splashing some cold water onto his face. Looking at his face in the mirror, eyes red, skin pale; he almost didn’t recognize the man staring back.

‘ _Pull it together, you can’t afford to be sick. You have a job to do._ ’

Gladio turns off the bathroom light, and stumbles back towards the bed. Checking his phone, the time read 1:54 AM.

‘ _I can still get some sleep. Maybe I’ll feel better by morning._ ’

As Gladio lays down in the bed, Ignis shifts slightly, though thankfully still asleep. Judging by their breathing, Noctis and Prompto were still asleep in the other bed, as well. All of them blissfully unaware of Gladio's current predicament. As nice as the Leville is, affordability unfortunately limits the group to one room, forcing them to share beds. Gladio was lucky this time though, not having disturbed his bedmate. Rest, however, did not come easy for the Shield. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning trying to get comfortable, along with another rush to the bathroom to empty his stomach once more, he finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

The piercing tone of Ignis’ alarm startles Gladio awake, and brings his headache back full force. His body still aches; his throat now raw from his late night malady. Though it seems the nausea has ceased. ‘ _For now, at least._ ’ Closing his eyes once more, he wills his stubborn headache to go away. Ignis appears from the bathroom, already dressed and ready for the day. Shutting off the alarm, he turns to the other bed:

“Come on, you two, time to get up.” Prompto slowly sits up, stretching him arms above his head, while Noctis merely grumbles, turning away and shoving his head underneath the pillow.

“Come now, your highness. Up.” Ignis rips the comforter and pillow away from Noctis, who squawks indecently, quite unbecoming of a king.

Prompto laughs, smacking Noctis with his pillow, earning another squawk.

“C’mon dude! Let’s get ready and go get some breakfast, I’m starved! And, maybe, we can squeeze in another round of King’s Knight before we have to go.”

That piques the boy’s interest, and slowly he sat up, and mumbles out a “fine.”

Satisfied with that, Ignis turns back to their own bed, and notes that Gladio was still laying there.

‘ _Odd,_ ’ he thinks, ‘ _Gladio would usually be up by now. Certainly, before Noctis._ ' 

“Are you alright, Gladio?” he asks.

The other two turn their head, instantly concerned for the man. Opening his eyes, and wincing slightly at the light, he turns to the advisor and nods, “Just fine, Iggy. Don’t worry about me, just didn’t sleep that well last night.”

The other two seem satisfied with that and continue getting ready, and although Ignis looked unconvinced, he leaves it at that, and continues to pack their bags.

While the other three head downstairs for breakfast, Gladio remains behind for a shower.

“It’ll help wake me up,” he told the others.

Stepping under the stream, the hot water helps soothe his aching muscles, letting him relax, though only for a moment. Gladio attempts to grip the wall, though it did little to slow his descent. Dizziness overtakes him, and leads to him crashing to the floor with a heavy thump.

‘ _The hell?!_ ’

Stunned at what had happened, he slowly rises to his feet, though every fiber of his being protests this action. Two sides of his mind were at war, the logical side screaming to rest. ‘ _The others will understand, just tell them you’re sick._ ’ The stubborn beast within took over, ‘ _You have a job to do. You cannot let his Highness down. You have to do this._ ’ While his stubbornness could sometimes be a blessing, this time it seems to be a curse.

Stepping out of the shower some 40 minutes later, Gladio struggles to dress, barely catching himself on the bathroom counter as another round of dizziness comes over him. He finally manages and stumbles over to his bag to pack up the rest of his belongings. The shrill ringtone from his phone sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Ignis’ name flashes on the screen.

“Hello,” he speaks gruffly.

“Gladio, are you still upstairs?”

“Yeah, I’m just about to come down. Why, what’s up?”

“Well, we’re heading to the market to stock up on supplies before we leave.”

“Ah, alright, I’ll meet you guys there then.”

“Are you sure? What about breakfast?”

“I’m not too hungry. I’ll just meet you guys in town.” There was a long pause, before Ignis speaks again, the concern clear in his voice.

“Gladio, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Iggy, don’t worry. I told you I’m fine.” Another pause. Gladio hoped he wouldn’t prod.

“Alright…if you say so.”

Saying their good-byes, Gladio hangs up, and finishes packing as quickly as he could, before heading to the bustling streets of Lestallum, willing his body to behave. He eventually made it to the market street, only being stopped once by a flirtatious stranger. Any other day, he would have reciprocated the advances kindly, but not the day when he felt as though a daggerquill was continuously pecking his head.

In the market, he spots Ignis at a booth selling spices. Of course. Ignis must have sensed his approach, not looking up from the products as he greets him.

“Ah, there you are. I was just about to call you again.”

Gladio grunts, “Where are the other two at?”

“They took the rest of the supplies to the car.” Looking up at Gladio, he once again pauses.

“Gladio, please be honest with me, are you sure you’re alright? You look quite…pale.”

Gladio snaps in response, “Iggy, I told you I’m fine. Can you just drop it?”

Before Ignis could respond, Gladio speaks again, “C’mon we should catch up with the other two. Don’t want ‘em getting bored and wandering off to spend even more gil.”

Ignis hums, and quickly pays for the spices, before following Gladio out of the market. The Shield feels the Advisor's eyes on him; can practically feel the concern pouring off of him. Choosing to ignore it, Gladio presses on, trying to hide the slight tremble in his step.

***

Gladio had prayed, oh how he prayed, that the car journey would help him relax. Those prayers must have fallen on deaf ears. The winding mountain roads did little to calm the waves of nausea and dizziness the Shield experienced. He tried desperately to focus on his book. Anything other than his churning stomach. Ignis seemed to notice that Gladio was on the same page for the last five miles, but stayed quiet, not wanting to invoke his wrath again. Noctis, in the driver seat, listened to Prompto’s directions toward their destination. A pack of saberclaws have been causing havoc on the mountain pass, attacking supply trucks and civilian cars alike.

"We should be getting pretty close,” Prompto says, folding up the map.

Ignis speaks up, “The tipster said that their dens are hidden in rocky outcrops away from the road. Stay sharp.”

Gladio sets down his book and tries in vain to survey the landscape. His vision blurs, making it near impossible to make out anything.

“There!” Prompto exclaims, making his head pound. “I think I see something moving right up there.” Noctis pulls the car over to the side of the road, putting it in park.

“Tread lightly,” Ignis says, “Though their claws are sharp, it’s the fangs to avoid. They are capable of rendering flesh from bone. Stay close, your Highness.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

As the others exit the car, Gladio stumbles out last. He can do this, he thinks. ‘ _Just a measly pack of saberclaws, no big deal._ ’ He can do this.

***

Okay, he most certainly could not do this, his body decides. The pack is much larger than anticipated, nearly 30 beasts in all. Between the nausea, dizziness and muscles so sore he couldn’t lift his own broadsword, Gladio was in trouble. The others didn’t notice, to preoccupied with the ensuing battle.

‘ _C’mon focus damnit. You have to keep an eye on Noct. You have to protect him._ ’

Another wave of dizziness makes him crumble to his knees. The alpha of the pack held back from the battle, though notices him, the weakest link of the attackers. Slinking in the shadows, she creeps up on the Shield, moving in for the kill. Gladio attempts to regain his footing, trying desperately to fight off his ailments. Just as he thinks he's right on his feet, the female seizes her opportunity, leaping onto his back and knocks him to the ground. She pins him to the earth with her claws and tears into his back with her fangs.

***

The howl of pain from the Shield causes the other three men to freeze, their blood running cold. Noctis spots him through the rocks, face down with the saberclaw mauling him. The rage he feels is unlike anything he has ever experienced before. It courses through his veins; his eyes turn red as he feels his lineage’s true power take hold.

Seeing the beast go for Gladio’s neck throws him into action. He warps to his fallen friend and rips the animal from his back, throwing her away with his bare hands. Noctis summons his sword, and cuts down the alpha with a single blow; her dying howl echoing through the mountains. The rest of the pack hesitate at this new threat, though move to avenge their fallen leader. Ordering Ignis and Prompto to protect their friend, the Chosen King overtakes the remaining beasts single-handedly, slaying every last pitiful creature that stands in his way.

Ignis and Prompto rush to Gladio’s side, surveying the damage. His breathing is ragged, coming in short gasps of pain. His blood stains the grass beneath him. The leather jacket had done little to protect him. His left shoulder was torn open, the bite marks running deep. Though thankfully it seemed no harm had come to his spine or his neck. Prompto kept watch for any stragglers coming towards them as Ignis administers a hi-potion. He watches Gladio’s skin begin to knit itself back together; his breathing settling as he falls unconcious. As the hi-potion finishes its job, Ignis turns Gladio over and moves him to lean against a rock. The sound of the last dying saberclaw can be heard as Noctis warps back over to the trio, magic still radiating off of him in sparks.

“Is he okay?”

“His surface wounds have mended, yes, but,” Ignis holds out a hand to Gladio’s forehead. “Just as I feared, he’s burning up. He didn’t seem quite right this morning, and he looked awfully pale in the market before we left. It would seem he is fighting some sort of illness. I should have known better than to let him push himself like this,” Ignis says dolefully.

Prompto speaks up at this, “C’mon Iggy, you can’t blame yourself here. It’s not your fault.”

“Hmm...well regardless, we should return to Lestallum at once. He needs rest, in an actual bed. Camping will not suffice.”

It takes all three of them to attempt to carry Gladio back to the Regalia. To a passerby, the scene might have been almost comical, Noctis and Prompto lifting at his arms, while Ignis carries his legs. After what seems like an eternity (and nearly dropping the poor man on his head twice), they make it back to the car and situate Gladio in the backseat. With Noctis in the driver seat and Prompto riding shotgun, Ignis takes his place behind them, moving Gladio’s head onto his lap. He runs his fingers through the other's hair. Noctis starts the car, and they make their way down the mountain back towards the city.

***

Gladio’s first conscious thought is that his surroundings seem too comfortable and soft?

‘ _No way this is the mountainside, am I dead?_ ’

Opening his eyes, he discovers he is no longer on a rocky battle field, nor is he dead; rather he's in their hotel room at the Leville. His next conscious thought: THIRST.

His throat and mouth are drier than the hot Leiden desert. Grunting as he sits up in the bed, he spots a glass of water and what he presumes are painkillers on the bedside table. Putting the pills in his mouth, he gulps down the cool water, bringing relief to his parched throat. Setting down the glass, Gladio glances around the room. It's dark outside once more, and Ignis is settled in an armchair by the window, engrossed in what Gladio would guess a cookbook. Glancing up from his reading, Ignis smiles at him, closing the book before making his way over to the bed.

“Back with us, I see.”

Gladio groans, his headache still lingering.

“Uugh…yeah…what the hell happened?”

“You gave us all quite a fright today. It seems that even you have your limits, and you pushed yourself too hard. A saberclaw managed to get the best of you.” Leaning behind him to look as his back, Ignis continues, “Though it looks as though the hi-potion patched you up well. However, the bigger issue at hand is your health. Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”

Guilt pierces Gladio’s heart. “Iggy, I’m...sorry about all of this, about worrying you guys, and for lying to you like that. And for snapping at you, back in the market. I just…I didn’t want to hold us back.”

Ignis simply shakes his head and smiles. “All in the past, love. What matters most is for you to feel better. Though speaking of, you wouldn’t have happened to experience nausea with your other symptoms?”

Not seeing the point in hiding any longer, Gladio nods: “When I said I didn’t sleep well last night, I was up twice throwing up. Kinda surprised I didn’t wake you up.”

“Hmm, just as I suspected. At the market this morning, I heard a few locals speak of a stomach bug that has been going around, and I believe that is what ails you.”

As if on que, a knock sounds at the door. “Room service,” a voice calls. Opening the door, Ignis welcomes the man into the room and has him place a tray on the table. Thanking and tipping him, Ignis closes the door behind and returns to the tray. Carrying it over to Gladio, he sets it in his lap, and removes the dish lid to reveal a hot bowl of quillhorn soup.

“Aww, what, no cup noodles, Iggy?” Gladio teased.

Ignis scoffed, “That atrocity you call ‘food’ would do anything except help an upset stomach.”

Gladio chuckles at the response and digs into the meal, while Ignis returns to his chair and continues reading. Gladio eventually finishes the soup, surprised at how calm his stomach is compared to this morning. Ignis comes to take the tray away, setting it back on the table. Gladio relaxes back into the pile of pillows, exhaustion settling in. The door clicks open, and the soft voices of Noctis and Prompto could be heard entering.

A sigh of relief escapes Noctis's lips, happy to see that his friend is okay.

“Glad to see you up,” he says, as he takes a seat at the end of the bed. Prompto takes the grocery bag to Ignis, explaining, “We couldn’t find the exact brand of tea you wanted, but I think this is pretty close.”

“This will work fine. Thank you, Prompto.” Ignis smiles at him.

While Ignis heats up the water through the in-room coffee brewer, Prompto takes a seat next to Noctis, looking towards Gladio.

“You feelin' better, big guy?”

Gladio simply nods, too tired to speak. Ignis returns a few moments later, the aroma of peppermint tea filling the air.

“This should help keep your stomach calm,” he says, as he hands Gladio the cup. Gladio sips the tea slowly, and the other three make ready for bed. Setting the empty cup on the nightstand, he bid the others goodnight, too tired to keep his eyes open any longer.

***

Gladio spends the next few days in bed, letting his body rest. He would ever admit it, but it felt nice to take it easy, and to be taken care of. By the fourth day, he felt well enough to get back out on the road again.

***

“C’mon, where is it?” Gladio grumbles, searching through his bags for what felt like the hundredth time. Ignis and Noctis return to the room to carry the last of their belongings down to the car, Prompto having left some time ago to take a last few pictures of the Taelpar Crag.

“Something a matter, Gladio?” Ignis asks, watching him ruffle through his bags again.

“I can’t find my leather jacket. I know I wore it a few days ago on that hunt, but I can’t remember what happened to it? Do one of you guys have it?”

“Ah,” Ignis responds, walking over to another bag, and pulling out the remnants of the clothing piece, hardly recognizable as a jacket. “It was unfortunately no match for the saberclaw. I do apologize Gladio, I don’t think I will be able to mend this. I know how much it means to you.”

Gladio sighs, taking the jacket, “Well, nothing we can do about that. No need to be sorry, Iggy, it happens. But hey, now I guess I have an excuse to walk around without a shirt on.”

Noctis scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Not like you needed an excuse anyways.” Gladio laughs loudly at the remark, while Ignis chuckles. Gathering the last of their luggage, Ignis says, “Well, we had best get on the road. It’s quite a way to the Cauthess Depot, and we need to be there before nightfall.”

Grabbing his bag, Gladio follows the other two, just happy to finally be feeling better.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Day 2 of FFXV Brotherly Love! Hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to leave a kudos and/or a comment! Thank you!
> 
> My twitter (er dumpster fire) is @katerleegrand if you want to follow me there for more FFXV posts :) (and a lot of garbage)


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